Remembering
by Team Alpha Wolf Squadron
Summary: One-shot. Waking up married wasn't Merlin's ideal way to start the day. Especially when he can't remember what happened the night before.


His head was stinging worse than that time he tried opium in 1874. Getting up first thing after having a drag wasn't his best idea. The bump on the head only added to his hangover the next morning.

Right now he was starting to think that was nothing compared to this.

Opening his eyes he immediately had to shut them again.

Moving was out of the question as well. Not only because, as he tried to rise, he felt sick. There was something pinning him down. Someone actually. Gods he must have been more drunk than he thought to bring someone back with him.

Staying still he tried to remember what happened.

It was remembrance day yesterday. A mournful day, and one he hated with a passion. It was hard to forget something when everyone insisted on celebrating it every year.

So he had decided to be out of the country.

Vegas to be exact.

A night of gambling had seemed like a good idea at the time. Living for over a millennia meant he had more than enough money to keep himself comfortable for another.

He had arrived with his spirits high. The hotel was extravagant to the extreme, and the casino waiting below would be an excellent distraction while Britain mourned.

Changing, he had headed down to the bar for a quick drink. Big mistake. That one drink had turned to two, and, as he had always been a light drinker, he was wallowing in self pity by the third.

He chanced opening his eyes again, and this time managed to keep them open long enough to see his hotel walls and window streaming hellish sunlight inside.

The arm around his waist was thick, the hand more so. A man then. Not that much of a problem when someone lives through two plagues. What was disturbing to him was the gold band around his finger. One that was mirrored on his left hand as well.

His achy brain had the nerve to laugh at the cliché. Finally gay marriage was legal and Merlin, having steered clear of Vegas most of his life to avoid such a scenario with a woman was now trapped in the same with a man.

That, or he had managed to bag a married man and Merlin just happened to buy a ring similar to his last night.

Casting his mind back he fought through the haze that fogged his third drink.

"Machine guns," Merlin muttered. "Shells. Tanks. Why couldn't they had stuck with swords?"

His lament went on and on as the day turned to evening. By now the bartender had threatened to cut him off three times. But with other patrons starting to come down he couldn't be too insistent on his threats.

At the fourth Merlin decided to actually do what he came to do. He gambled.

Not much, and that he lost he more than made up for in the dice games. He thanked every God he knew that his powers hadn't waned over the years. To be honest they had grown stronger. He had spent many a year exploring, seeking out magical places and artefacts to hone and perfect his skills.

When he had earned more than he spent he set out to a club. Which was where he met him.

Him...

The image was blurry when he immediately tried to put a name to the arm. The urge to look back at his companion was strong, but as he tried his stomach heaved in protest.

Groaning in discomfort he went back to where he left off.

A club. There were people dancing. Some in cages, he thought. The air was humid with sweat and fruity drinks being splashed around as people fought for space in the overcrowded hall.

Dancing was another thing he hated about this modern age. Which reminded him.

With a quick glance around he cleared the toilets out and cast off his ageing spell. Immediately he felt lighter. His limbs were malleable again, and his back. Gods it hadn't been this straight in ages. Fixing his clothes and hair he cringed at his reflection. He was old. Too old to be doing this anymore. Yet here he was, not looking a day over twenty-three. He didn't belong in this youthful body. But society looked down on an old man frequenting a club so he sacrificed his mental well-being for his physical this night.

Back out, he bought himself another drink and holed himself up in a corner. Watching the youth enjoy themselves.

He wondered if any of them could actually dance. Over his lifetime he had learnt many, fox-trot, waltz- whatever was in fashion at the time. He even dabbled in disco in the eighties yet he could never get himself to dance so uninhibited as these kids.

So, sulking in a corner, in one of the most fun places on earth Merlin hadn't high hopes his night could get any better or worse. Truthfully he had expected to pass out either here or in a club not far from here and pick himself up again in the morning with all of today behind him for another year.

"Get that down you," A man said.

Merlin brushed the near identical drink to his own away. He was well aware of what people did to each other in these clubs and wasn't in the mood to play tonight.

"Come on mate," The man insisted, an Irish lilt in his voice. "You're bringing the room down."

Merlin turned to tell the man why he didn't care if he was bringing the room down when he felt like his world had just stopped. Gwaine.

Gwaine!

It was him, he had been there. The same brown hair, cut shorter in some modern fashion. His face was younger than when Merlin had last seen him, lighter, like before he had became a knight. An easy going smile tilted his cheeks, dragging down as Merlin fell to the floor.

The shock had made him faint like the girl Arthur always called him.

Arthur. He was there too. Appearing before his blurry vision, shoving Gwaine aside and shouting for help.

Merlin thought he was dead. He had finally died and was seeing Arthur in the afterlife. So many years he had tried to forget his King. It was too painful to keep his memory alive.

A slap to the face snapped him out of his shock and back to the club. A crowd had gathered around him. Dispersing when they realized they wouldn't be getting a show tonight. Merlin was fine.

That didn't seem to be enough to get Gwaine to leave him alone. The drink he had previously batted away was thrust into his hands as the man dragged him over to where Arthur had retreated. It felt like he was in a dream. There, sitting merrily, was everyone. Percival, Leon, Elyan, even Lancelot! He half expected to see Morgana sitting with them as well it was so surreal. But as he sat in the midst of this group he learned that Morgana was back home with Gwen for her hen party.

"Here." Another drink was given to him by Gwaine. "You look like you need it."

"I think he's had enough," Arthur berated. "All that alcohol's probably the reason he fainted in the first place."

Arm securely around Merlin's shoulders Gwaine stuck his tongue out at Arthur. "Nonsense! Alcohol makes everything better."

"Logic that's going to get you killed," Percival muttered. Merlin was near enough to hear it and laughed when Percival looked expectantly at him.

"I think I should go," Merlin said. He didn't want to. This was everything he ever wanted. To see them again. To be included in their group again. But this was the wrong day. He was drunk and out of sorts.

"What? No," They protested.

"The whole reason I brought you over was so I could get to know you better," Gwaine leered. "You leaving now will just ruin it."

"I thought the whole reason you brought me over was because I was killing the mood," Merlin quipped.

Gwaine laughed good naturedly and pulled Merlin in close again.

"Well you were," He berated. "Like a little storm cloud at the edge of the room. I thought I better do something before Lance spotted you and thought it was the universe's way to tell him not to get married."

Lancelot was getting married. This was interesting. To Gwen too.

Hazarding a look at Arthur he saw the blonde not deterred by that fact at all. Fate was panning out differently this time around then.

"Congratulations," Merlin said to him, his mind still fuzzy.

"Thanks," Lancelot grinned. "And I don't need an excuse not to marry Gwen Gwaine. She's the one I want to spend my life with. The universe could be falling apart and I'd still marry her."

"Hear hear," Elyan toasted.

The arm on his stomach moved up, pulling him close.

Merlin felt himself breathing heavily as he tried to remember beyond that. He hoped to God he hadn't married Gwaine. He loved the man, what he remembered about him, but he didn't even the money he had could fuel his drinking habit. That was, if Gwaine still had a drinking habit.

Back to the club. He remembered they made him tag along for a few more stops. After that they hit a casino.

"For someone who can barely walk straight, you're rather good at this game," Arthur noted.

"Luck," Merlin grinned.

Arthur had been nice to him all night. There was no hint of arrogance in his tone or his gaze as he appraised Merlin. It seemed a humbler upbringing had awaited Arthur this lifetime. Merlin was surprised he was upset at that fact. Then again, arguing with Arthur was always a highlight of his day. He liked that there was someone in the world that could match him.

"Indeed," Arthur agreed.

He looked to the table and back at Merlin. The inner war he was having with himself playing out over his face in seconds before Arthur placed his chips down.

"Win this for me," He said.

"And why would I do that?" Merlin asked, hoping for a taunt or jeer from the blonde.

Instead, Arthur crowded close and nodded towards the bar, "I'll buy you a drink if you win."

"I can buy myself one," Merlin baited. He needed to hear at least one insult from him.

He was left wanting. But Arthur did give him a snort before telling him, "In your condition they won't serve you again. I however, am willing to buy you what you so clearly want if you win this for me."

Merlin did win it. Half because he did need another drink just to get through another minute with Arthur. The other half of him won it because he wanted to do it for Arthur. Over a thousand years and Merlin was still taking orders from the only man who could make him a servant.

"So where are you from?" Arthur asked. "Your accent doesn't seem American."

"It's not," Merlin said. "I was born in England."

"Do you still live there?" He seemed to be fishing for something.

Merlin nodded anyway. He didn't want to give anything specific to Arthur. He knew he would eventually have to track the blonde down and figure out what was going on. But for now, he needed to get through tonight.

"Where abouts? You could join our footy team while Lance is honeymooning," Arthur joked.

"Just, everywhere," Merlin waved about as if that narrowed it down. For him it did. He had houses all over the country. Well, he said houses. He may have swindled a few Lords out of their estates, and bought some castles over the years. Opening them up to the public was one of his sources of income, but mainly he enjoyed still having them because they were a part of his life. He had lived in them once and still had most of his stuff scattered around each of them. Most of it however, was in a pearly white castle hidden with magic.

Arthur didn't seem to be enjoying his mysteriousness. With a pout on his face he huffed, "Fine. Be awkward."

They played the dice games for a while before meeting back up with a near bankrupt group of former knights. They all took it in good humour, joking that Merlin would make it up to them in another casino.

They hopped to another club after that. A strip club to be precise.

The men behaved like children, and Merlin had to admit it was a funny sight, when Lancelot had his hand over his eyes for most of the time they were there.

"Give her this," Merlin laughed, pushing ten dollars into Lancelot's hand.

"Piss off," He whined back, keeping the ten dollars despite his complaining.

He had them leaving after half an hour. Making up for it in drinks now he could afford some with Merlin's added money.

They were trailing the paths, looking for a place to go, around three in the morning. Merlin had been sandwiched between Percival and Gwaine when he stumbled flat on his face. They didn't seem to mind too much keeping Merlin upright between them, even if, as he tripped again, he was wondering why they didn't just take him back to his hotel and have fun on their own.

He was about to propose such a thing when a car backfired somewhere down the street. A thousand bad images stormed his mind with that one sound. Being shot by a machine gun again, and again, and again, knowing no matter how many times they did that he would still be alive. Alive and picking bullets out of his skin when he got to safety. The sound of bombs as they rained down from above. Muskets being fired. Canons.

He lurched to side, his body not being able to comprehend so many shocks in one night, and was promptly sick.

He hated modern war. He hated war in general.

"Merlin?" One of them asked.

"I'm fine," he choked out. Batting them off when they came close.

He didn't think he could handle being touched right now. It would only make things worse.

A few minutes and he had managed to gather himself together. Turning to the others he pointed back down the street. "I think I should just go. You have fun, I just..."

"No," Gwaine protested. "We were having fun. One more casino?"

"I think we should let him go," Arthur argued.

"But-"

"Gwaine!"

Turning back to Merlin with the most pitiful look on his face Gwaine begged one more time for Merlin to come with them. He really should have said no.

Merlin won them enough money to keep them watered the whole night. Settling in a hotel's bar, they ordered another round and joked with Lancelot about his upcoming nuptials.

Coughing in shock, Merlin noted that this wasn't his usual drink. Arthur was watching him from across the table, keeping his own drink firmly out of reach.

"I'm cutting you off," He said.

"I won the money," Merlin protested.

"That you did, and we're thankful for it," Gwaine cheered.

Arthur nodded towards Merlin's water, a stern look on his face, "It'll do you some good."

Merlin scoffed, tempted to throw the glass like a child, "It won't."

But he sat and drank his water for a while. Then, when his eyes were starting to drop he decided he would try again to weasel out of this reunion.

Gwaine protested again, and Merlin was getting the distinct impression that the man was trying to bed him. Especially when Gwaine offered to bring Merlin to his own room and keep an eye on him. Thankfully Arthur came to his rescue by hailing a taxi and shutting the door on Gwaine's overeager face.

"Which hotel?" Arthur asked.

Merlin sprouted off a name, whether it was the right one would remain to be seen.

About halfway there he got them chucked out by throwing up on the back seat. The driver had no patience, even when Merlin offered to pay him double, and the pair of them were left to navigate their way on foot. Which wasn't good since Arthur wasn't exactly sober himself, and didn't know his way around this city better than Merlin.

Arm around Arthur's shoulders and letting the blonde near carry him Merlin couldn't help but open his mouth to ask, "Why did you cut me off? You were more than happy to fuel my habits earlier."

"Because I didn't respect you earlier," Arthur said.

Merlin smiled against his neck. It almost sounded like Arthur insulted him. "What changed? I'm still the loner you picked up."

"True," Arthur acquiesced. "But now you're the veteran loner we picked up."

Merlin straightened, "How did you-" There was no way Arthur could know that about him. He didn't remember the life they had shared together, Merlin had gathered that in the first minute of meeting Gwaine. Even if he had he wasn't to know what Merlin had done with his life.

"The car. My father used to get the same look on his face whenever he was reliving something terrible."

"Korea?" Merlin guessed. Arthur's father could be around that age. Maybe a bit younger. He tried to think of more recent wars.

"How old do you think I am?" Arthur exclaimed.

"No idea," Merlin answered. "Gulf?"

"Forget it," Arthur waved off and took Merlin in his arms again. "The point I was making is that I thought you were here earlier to have a good time, like us."

"And now you see me for the sad, lonely man I am," Merlin drawled, pretty sure the path was getting nearer.

"You're not sad," Arthur said. "Not lonely either. If Gwaine had his way..." The insinuation was clear. "Or if you let me have mine."

Merlin stopped again, sure he had just misheard his former king. "What?"

Arthur smirked, the first mocking look he had seen on him, and Gods did it look good. "You weren't exactly interested in those strippers Merlin." He even drawled his name like he used to.

"I've seen worse," Merlin tried. Which was true again. More than once he had ventured to the London underworld. In any time period it wasn't a nice place to visit.

Arthur chuckled, coming closer, daring Merlin to walk away. "Tell me you're not interested Merlin."

"Merlin?"

He was snapped out of his reminiscence by Arthur presently saying his name. His hand running up to cup his jaw and turn it to the blonde's puzzled face.

"We got married," He said stupidly.

The blonde groaned, letting Merlin's jaw go as he flopped down onto the pillows. "I knew Vegas was a bad idea."

"How did we get married?" Merlin asked. "I remember you propositioning me."

Arthur groaned again, pulling the sheet over himself in embarrassment.

"Shut up Merlin! It's too early to do this."

"How are you not concerned?" Merlin said. Indeed Arthur's reaction to the whole thing was quite blasé. Merlin was rather worried that it wasn't him that was damaged in this relationship. Oh Gods, they were married. "You realize you've married a stranger, don't you?"

"Merlin," Arthur drawled. He came out of his hidey hole to look him in the eye. "I'm going to tell you something, and I don't want you to get mad."

"Okay?"

With the straightest face anyone could posses Arthur told him. "You're an idiot," and flopped down onto his pillows again.

"Considering there's two of us in this situation I'd have to say we're both idiots. Why are you not going crazy?"

"Because," Arthur said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Because?"

He sighed, obviously fighting off his headache. "I can't believe you're making me say this. Because I've spent more than twenty years going crazy looking for you. Are you satisfied now or would you like me to write you a poem. I heard girls like you enjoy that kind of thing."

Arthur.

He whacked him with all the strength a hungover man could.

"Clotpole!"


End file.
